1. Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell–Long-time readers of this blog have already had to endure multiple love letters to this book of six interlocking tales that span every genre from epistolary bildungsroman to post-apocalyptic adventure. The stories form a narrative Mobius strip that is dazzling in its execution. The book’s sobering study of human cruelty and oppression lingers in the mind long after the last page is turned.
2. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon–Chabon gives comic books and comic book creators some long-overdue literary love in this sprawling novel. It traces the careers of a couple Jewish cousins who partner to write comics in the days leading up to World War Ii. Their tales of the Escapist become a huge commercial success, but they are also a vehicle for the cousins to articulate their utter contempt for Hitler and his Nazis. Chabon’s prose is lovely and his characters quickly earn our empathy and affection in a vivid story about the enduring power of imagination.
3. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke–Clarke’s mannered and imaginative novel about the rivalry between two 19th-century sorcerers in an alternate England is a kind of Harry Potter for adults, complete with footnotes. It melds historical fiction with high fantasy to create a fully realized world where magic exists but it rarely seen. Clarke spent ten years writing this book and it shows in the carefully crafted plot and the distinctly British touches of humor.
4. Spin by Robert Charles Wilson–I love to read science fiction, but I find a lot of it pretty forgettable. Not so with this book that describes what happens to three friends and the rest of the world after the stars disappear from the sky. Wilson’s grand idea is a whopper, but he’s just as interested in examining how his Big Idea changes the lives of his characters. Good science fiction asks “What if…?” and then sets about answering that question on human scale. Spin does just that.

Today, we look at the television shows that routinely bathed me in blue light over the last ten years:

1. The Wire–This seminal show is most easily described as a cop show, but it’s really a Dickens novel on television (except with a lot more swearing and drug use). Over its five seasons, it put a magnifying glass to the city of Baltimore and its entrenched but deeply dysfunctional institutions–the police, city hall, labor unions, public schools, and the media. It offered a devastating critique of how each of these institutions fail Baltimore’s citizens and how easily well-intentioned people can be corrupted by the power they seek. But the heart of the show is the endless battle of wits waged between the cops and the city’s byzantine network of drug dealers. In the end, nobody wins, which is in keeping with the social realism that underpins the entire series.
2. The Daily Show–What started out as just another obscure Comedy Central series is now essential viewing for us political junkies. While most of the “real” news media fed nothing but jingoistic pabulum to the country in the years following 9/11 and the invasion of Iraq, Jon Stewart and his crew of brilliant writers couched their horror at world events in cutting satire. Stewart never is shy about wearing his politics on his sleeve, but he also demonstrates that he’s capable of having a reasonable conversation with those with whom he disagrees; a skill that seems to be rapidly disappearing from the media landscape. The show is at its best when it puts on a grim smile in response to our leaders’ stupidity and and hypocrisy. 
3. The Colbert Report–This companion to The Daily Show is even more blatant in its satire. Stephen Colbert plays Stephen Colbert, a brash and smug right-wing host in the mold of any number of Fox News personalities. The show’s conceit allows him to poke fun at the media’s vacuity while keeping himself firmly ensconced in the joke. Colbert also loves to deconstruct our consumerist and celebrity-obsessed culture, as evidenced in his Doritos-sponsored presidential campaign and his efforts to get a space station module named after him. His self-aware buffoonery is one of the best running gags on television today.
4. Battlestar Galactica–Who would have thought that a remake of a super-cheesy science fiction series from thirty years ago could be this good? In its story about humanity on the run from a genocidal race of robots, BSG created a palpable sense of desperation and dread. In something of a rarity for science fiction on TV, it usually didn’t solve problems with science-cum-magic, instead forcing the survivors to muddle through as best they could. As the years went by, the show got even darker, focusing on themes of occupation, torture, and tyranny. The final season relied too much on generic and hokey mysticism, but when BSG was good (see in particular the two-parter “Exodus”), it was riveting.
5. Lost–The hatch. The polar bear. The black smoke. The statue. Dudes wearing mascara. I’m still not sure what it all means and I have a feeling that this season won’t offer completely satisfying answers, but Lost is always interesting. A show about survivors from a plane crash stranded on a desert island could have turned into cliché really fast, but the creators did a couple of smart things to keep the story fresh. First, the extended flashbacks provided compelling background stories for the main characters that ultimately informed their actions on the island. Second (spoiler alert!), getting several of the main characters off the island established a pair of parallel narratives that kept the plot moving forward. Oh, and adding time travel didn’t hurt, either.
6. The Office–Adapted from the original BBC series, the American version provides its own absurd take on office life in a struggling paper company. Michael Scott is every bad boss you’ve ever had writ large: oblivious to his own incompetence, narcissistic in the extreme, and perhaps borderline mentally ill. Still, the writers resist making him a complete parody. Scott understands that work, the place where we spend roughly a third of our adult life, should be fun and that no excuse is too small for an office party. As the economy tanked, the show played up the anxieties of a workplace in crisis mode without losing any of its funny. 
7. Mad Men–Ad man Don Draper is a misogynistic jerk whose world is crumbling around him, but he still embodies a bygone era of cool. Watching Mad Men is a bit like peeking into a bizarro version of our own reality; a reality where everyone has a scotch in one hand and a cigarette in the other. A reality in which women are regarded as children or objects of lust. It’s a show that reminds us how much of a difference a few decades can make in shaping the world we inhabit. When someone makes the inevitable drama about life in Silicon Valley in the first decade of the twenty-first century, our mores and habits will probably seem equally quaint to younger viewers.

Once again, Santa failed to deliver my Tricia Helfer look-alike robotic nurse with the strapless red dress (sold separately). And I tried so hard to be good this year. I’ll attempt to drown my disappointment in spiked eggnog and Mannheim Steamroller Christmas albums. There’s always next year, I guess.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone. Now get off the computer and go call your grandmother to thank her for that sweater.

Here’s another article teasing me about the possibilities of writing with a neural interface. The article describes a more invasive technique for measuring neural input: placing electrodes directly on the brain. That’s a little further than I’m willing to go, but I stand ready to be a guinea pig for the first implantable chip. And by implantable, I mean that it can be implanted inside my melon with a small incision that won’t mess up my hair.

Until then, I’ll stick with my circa-1987 headset technology. It’s old and decidedly unsexy, but it gets the job done. And it keeps my neck muscles buff.

During the first few minutes of Avatar, I thought “This is pretty cool.” By the thirty-minute mark, I thought “This is absolutely stunning.” By the end of the first hour, I thought “I need to see this again.”

Avatar is set in the mid-22nd century on the forest moon of Pandora. Earth is dying, but the discovery of a highly valuable mineral prompts humans to establish a mining colony on Pandora. In order to win the trust of the native Na’vi, the corporation leading the expedition creates genetically-altered Na’vi “avatars” that can be remotely controlled by human operators. Jake Sully, a former Marine who is a paraplegic as a result of a combat injury, is brought to Pandora to operate one of these avatars. Through a series of events, sully befriends a Na’vi woman and her tribe. But things take a grim turn when the humans decide to forcibly move the tribe in order to mine the rich vein of mineral beneath their village. I’m not giving too much away by disclosing that Sully decides to make a stand with the Na’vi.

Cameron’s attempt at world-building is a marvel of artistry and technical wizardry. Pandora’s vibrant and lethal ecosystem is fully realized to dazzling effect, but Cameron really outdoes himself by breathing life into the Na’vi. They are every bit as expressive and nuanced in both movement and emotion as their human counterparts. Without them, the movie is just so much eye candy and explosions. The Na’vi provide the film’s emotional core.

The story itself is a bit kludgy and bears more than a passing resemblance to a certain western. And I could have done without the forays into Gaia-inspired mysticism. I’m not sure why Hollywood has to portray alien civilizations as either technological utopias or primitive utopias. But that doesn’t make Avatar any less of a crowning achievement and one of the best science fiction movies of the decade.